Waking Up
by The Queen of the Quill
Summary: Every night, Draco would shut his eyes and fall into a deep sleep, away from all of the pain he had to face in the day. The morning was always reliable. Everything was always just as he left it. Everything was always right.


**Waking Up  
by Queen of the Quill  
_Chapter 1 & Prologue_**

_Every night, Draco would shut his eyes and fall into a deep sleep, away from all of the pain he had to face in the day. The grey eyes would fall closed, and then, they would flutter open in the morning. The morning was always reliable. Everything was always just as he left it. Everything was always right. _

_What if, one day, you opened up your eyes, and your life was completely different? _

**Prologue: **The Slytherin Common Room was quiet, and the murmuring of students and the fire crackling were the only sounds. A blonde boy with hair falling into his face sulked in a green armchair. His hand was clutching his side, in a silent rage. Only the other Slytherins knew what happened at home. A large bruise covered the surface of his side, beneath his green robes. Lucius. They knew he was the cause, and only a few had actually seen the bruise, though the rest knew through the others. Draco was angry. Not only was his side bruised, but also his pride. Potter and he had gotten into a fight, and when Potter had sent Draco flying into the ground, Draco had been knocked unconscious for a minute. Theodore Nott, of course, had come and checked if he was hurt. Draco was clutching at his side, since it had been jarred and slammed into the ground and hurt even more.

"He's hurt." Nott lifted up the side of the shirt, revealing the huge bruise, along with many old scars. Nott cringed and ran his long fingers through his dark hair, biting his lip. "Lucius, what have you done?" he whispered.

Grey eyes flew open. "Nott!" he hissed. "What are you doing!" Draco scrambled to his feet, and brushed himself off, wand out.

But Potter smirked. _Smirked_. "I think that bruise I gave you'll keep you from bothering me, Malfoy."

Bruise _he_ gave me! Draco thought. "You didn't give me that bruise, Potter," Draco said, darkly.

Potter's smirk vanished. "What do you mean?"

Draco looked away, angrily. Then, without a word, he swiftly turned, his robes billowing behind him.

And now he was there, sulking in the common room. All the things Draco dealt with. His Death Eater father. Potter, always wanting to get into a fight, provoking him all day. The other Slytherins, the older ones, saw something in Draco, and were pressuring him to join their group. They were playing with his mind, and distorting things. He refused every time, but they would hex him, make him regret it. Pansy Parkinson trying to make him into her boyfriend. Schoolwork, and his struggles with Transfiguration. Quidditch along with Marcus Flint's threatens to throw him off them team, beat him up, or both if they lost the next match to Gryffindor. And then there was always her…

"Draco, are you okay?" Nott asked sullenly.

Draco ignored the question. "I'm going to sleep," he called back as he slithered up the stairs to the Boy's Dormitory. He shut himself in the bathroom and got changed into green flannel pants, no shirt. He had woken up sweating in the morning from nightmares, and another ruined shirt was out of the question. He did, however, wrap up his side in green cloth, as it had started to ache, and he didn't want to draw any more attention to it.

He sighed and pulled the green canopy curtains surrounding his bed closed. He laid his head onto the pillow and pulled the green curtains over him, sighing once again.

"I wish," he whispered. "That my life was different." And then, his eyes fell closed.

**The morning: **No nightmares had plagued Draco that night. His slate-grey eyes blinked and opened. Draco yawned and stretched. He sulkily opened the canopy and put on a pair of socks, as his feet were frigid and cold. He then stepped out and walked down the stairs. Draco's blood froze.

"Hey Draco, how are you?" A boy with jet-black hair and glasses greeted him. He was wearing Slytherin robes.

"P-potter!"

The boy looked at him quizzically. "Um, Draco, why'd you call me by my last name?"

"I'll be right back!" Draco rushed up the staircase and locked himself in the bathroom. He tore off the cloth from his side and sucked in his breath sharply. The bruise was gone.

Draco went back downstairs. "Potter, what's happening?"

"Draco, even though we're best friends, I have to tell you, I really don't like the nickname," he said, frowning.

_Best friends_! "Po-Harry, you'd trust me if I told you something really far-fetched, right?"

Harry laughed. "Depends, Draco."

"I woke up today with a different life."

"What?" Harry stopped laughing.

"Harry, I'm not joking. Last night, my life was completely different. I went to sleep and woke up here."

"Here as opposed to…?"

"My life. Reality. I don't know!"

Harry's eyebrows shot up. Draco sighed. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"We live in a magic world, Draco. How could I not? You aren't one for pranks, especially not this serious. I do, though reluctantly, believe you."

Draco nodded. "So, we're best friends, huh?"

"Yeah…why? What were we in your life?"

Draco sighed. "How about if I tell you about my life there, and you help my with my life here?"

**After an explanation: **

"Enemies?" Harry asked, amazed. "And I hung out with _Weasly _and that _Mudblood_?"

"Yes, now tell me about my life here," Draco said, a bit impatiently.

"Ok…well, we're best friends, and Weasel and Mudblood are in Gryffindor…and we're the most wanted guys in school, basically…there's no Voldemort character, I don't have a scar, and I have parents…"

"Wait! Did you just say there's no Voldemort!"

"Um, yeah."

"Then my father...he's not a Death Eater, he doesn't hurt me!" Draco said excitedly.

"Draco…your parents…" Harry looked down.

Draco's smile disappeared. "What?"

"They're both dead. Your father died before you were born, and your mother…she took her own life after she had you, out of grief…"

Draco felt all of the happiness collapse. "I don't know how to feel…this may not even be reality…"

"Don't get too depressed, you don't even know them in this life. Be nonchalant, Draco, or too many will catch on."

Draco nodded. "I guess."

"Well, let's see…you've inherited the Malfoy Manor, and because you're now 16, you have it all to yourself now, whereas your uncle used to have it, and you lived with my family over the summers, when you became 11."

"The manor's mine!"

"Yeah. The others are waking up, but I think that's all you need to know."

Draco nodded again. This was going to be a difficult day.


End file.
